


The taste of mint

by Morethancupcake



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cheating, Closeted Bruce, Emotional Infidelity, Emotionally Repressed, Friends With Benefits, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 23:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7458226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morethancupcake/pseuds/Morethancupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In the morning, he's gone. And the dance begins."</p><p>It's not a real relationship, if you ask Bruce. He's not gay, whatever this is, it will pass. But Tony is there, Tony whispers words of love, and Bruce doesn't know how to love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The taste of mint

**Author's Note:**

> Please be careful reading this, as I repeat : this is angst. Not to spoil anything, but this is not a happy ending, I repeat, not a fluffy Science Husbands fic. I have loads of those, go read them instead.
> 
> No beta, so all the mistakes are mine. Please remember English isn't my first language and kindly point them out to me :)

Tony Stark tastes like mint, like sex, like everything Bruce wants and can't have. He tastes like hope, like fun, like life.

Yesterday, he didn't know.

Today, he wakes up with an ache in his bones, and his sheets smell like sex and them both.

 

Tony Stark isn't loud. He isn't all moan and act, no. He whispers softly against his skin, he gasps, and he almost moans when it gets too much, when it looks like pleasure is actually almost hurting him. 

Yesterday, just yesterday, it was all mysteries to him.

Bruce showers the remnants of the night, he touches his lips, his chest, all the places his skin feels changed, new. 

 

Tony Stark isn't crass. He isn't vulgar. He whispers words of love and worship, and Bruce feels cherished, protected, for the first time, maybe. 

Yesterday, it wasn't something he imagined possible, he didn't dare to dream, about their hands joined and their lips finding new places to kiss in the dark.

Bruce wakes up to an empty bed, Tony long gone.

 

He can't help but feel robbed.

 

He's the one who asks. They're both resting in the dark on his room, Tony boneless and sleepy on his shoulder. It's good, it's so good it's perfect. After all the years, all these days and night spent chasing each other, Tony is finally here, in his arms. 

It's both intoxicating and terrifying.

 

"Will you tell Pepper ?" he asks, and Tony snorts at that, his hand still lazily playing on his hip. 

"You want me to tell her ?"

"Maybe we shouldn't ?" The hand at his hip stops. Tony's eyes are almost black, glowing in the dark. "Maybe we shouldn't tell anyone about us ?"

"Are you sure about that ?" Bruce cups his face, and kisses him. "I'd rather not involve everyone. This isn't anyone's business except ours."

Tony looks tired, too tired to have a conversation in the middle of the night. He leaves his shoulder to claim the pillow next to him. 

"What are you telling me ?"

"That this will end. I am not even gay. This isn't... This isn't real." The flash of hurt can be seen even in the dark. Tony watches him closely, looking for answer Bruce isn't sure he's able to give. "Let's just keep this between us ? Please ?"

"Of course." Tony smiles, and kisses him, slow and wicked. "Of course."

 

In the morning, he's gone.

 

And the dance begins.

 

Tony welcomes him, always. Bruce knows he just has to call, and Tony will open his door, feed him amazing foods from countries he never visited, and guide him to his bed. 

It's intoxicating, Tony's focus on him, his pleasure. Tony studies him, and kisses him like he has a new idea, a new theory about him, and Bruce is weak against it. Tony whispers words he can't understand, words too low for him to hear, and he falls asleep heavy and warm. Happy.

He goes in the morning, to work, to his friends, their friends. To a life where Tony Stark isn't his, even is the man is tatooed on his skin, his bones, his soul.

 

They don't go out, they don't date. Tony doesn't talk about other people, and Bruce doesn't want to ask. 

It will stop, he knows it will, and that's why he doesn't say no when Natasha stops by and asks him if he wants to grab a drink.

 

"You had a date with Natasha." Tony is looking at the ceiling, hands resting on his own chest. Sex was different. Not bad, he isn't sure they could have bad sex, but odd. Off. Almost like a performance on Tony's part. He isn't sure he liked it. Except he did.

"Kind of. It was a couple of drinks, and dinner."

Tony swallows, it's loud enough for him to hear.

"If you two..." His voice is rough. "I mean, I guess we should use condoms, now. To be safe."

"We didn't..."

"Yet." Tony smiles, eyes still on the ceiling. He looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. "Yet."

 

He feels guilty enough to cancel his second date. Natasha corners him to know why, seeing right though his lies. 

 

Tony avoids his kisses, and the smell of latex is almost wrong, between them. 

In the morning, he empties his bathroom's bin, the foil burning something on the back of his mind.

 

"Would you be able to ? Be monogamous ?" He remembers Tony's hushed words of love in the dark, the first time. Tony is close, so close, Bruce can almost feel him inside of him, warming him, making him safe. 

Tony's eyes are burning him in the dark. In the morning, when they pass each other in the break room, Tony tells him. "I haven't dated or been with anyone in a year, you know."

In the morning, Tony flies to Tokyo. Bruce spends his weekend alone, not knowing what to do with this sudden free time and truth. He thinks about Tony's body pliant against him, about his rare smiles and his breath in the dark.

 

Tony comes back a little slimmer, way too tired still. Bruce almost turns away and goes back home a few times, but he knocks on the door, and Tony smiles a soft hesitant smile when he sees him.

"Hey Big Guy. What are you doing here ?"

"I wanted to see you."

Bruce missed this Tony's smile, and the sound of his nickname. He misses his friend and his lover. 

 

At the end of the night, when he's almost asleep, Tony asks, voice almost small. 

"Why today ? Why did you come today ?"

"I wanted to see you." 

Tony looks heartbroken, and it should scare him, it should. But he feels good, and lazy. Tony's bed is decadent and plush, and Tony shakes his hand and smiles.

 

Colonel Rhodes surprised them all at the office. They know him a little, Tony's best friend, his soulmate, really. Bruce feels a pang of jealousy, watching the man wraps him arms aroung Tony, lifting him from the ground.

"Happy Birthday Tones ! Sorry I couldn't make it yesterday."

 

Yesterday.

Yesterday was his birthday.

 

Tony flies with his best friend to a surprise organized just for him.

Bruce buys him a book, and waits.

 

"You didn't tell me." Tony's face is still hidden in the pillow beneath him. He shrugs and doesn't answer. "You should've told me. We could've had dinner, or something."

"Outside ?" Tony's sarcasm lacks fire. "It's fine, Big Guy. You shouldn't worry about it."

Tony kisses him after avoiding his kisses for most of the night. He kisses him like he's drowning and Bruce is air. Like he's mad at himself for caving in. Like he wants something, something Bruce wants to give.

 

"Tony deserves better." Steve waits until their both alone in the gym. He is huge, and usually very sweet, but his eyes are hard and unforgiving, and Bruce isn't sure how to react at the agressivity displayed.

"I'm sorry ?"

"Tony. He deserves better than being your toy." Bruce almost snarls, because Tony Stark is not a toy, he's not whatever Steve is implying. But he doesn't want to talk about this. He can't talk about this.

"There's nothing between Tony and me."

Steve shakes his head a few times. He looks angry, disappointed. Sad.

 

"If you're not ready to treat him right, just step out."

 

Steve doesn't hide. Steve doesn't feel the need to protect himself, it seems. He brings Tony lunch every day, and invites him for dinner. He listens and coaxes him into sharing bits about his life. Tony looks puzzled, but slowly opens himself up to his new friend.

Bruce watches it all from afar. Slowly, carefully, Tony turns away from him, and looks at Rogers, like a sunflower chasing the light.

 

He ignores Tony's messages and his calls, and he feels petty and childish for punishing the other man for something so stupid. It's not Tony's fault he's to scared. It's not Tony's fault he's too cold and careful.

 

At night, when the smell of firewood and sage is haunting him, he thinks about Tony's body close to him, about Tony's hand reaching for him in the dark, but never daring to touch.

He thinks about the courage the wants to have. He thinks about his past, and his future, and he falls asleep alone.

 

He accepts Coulson's offer, and goes away for a few weeks. At night, he goes to bars, and tries. He really tries. 

It doesn't work. All he can think about are dark eyes glowing in the dark, studying him.

 

"Hey." Tony sounds hesitant, almost wary when he answers. Bruce feels guilty for his silence, for the almost four weeks now between them. 

"Do you want to come over ?" It sounds rude. Dirty. Tony is moving, he can hear a door, and another. Tony isn't home, he realizes suddenly. He's not in the city.

"I can't really do that." He sounds apologetic, and a little lost, so Bruce rushes.

"Of course. When you're back, just call me. I can come to your place. I missed you." He adds. Because it's true. It's something he can say. It's true.

"No. Bruce." And this. This. He's not Big Buy. He's Bruce. "I can't do that anymore. I can't." The silence is so heavy, Tony whispers. "I thought you were done. You never answered. You left."

 

Wherever Tony is, it's windy. He can picture it, a field, somewhere nice. Tony relaxed, wearing a shirt and his faded blue jeans. Happy. 

 

"Where are you ?"

"Barton's family farm. We're helping him with the renovation."

"Steve just wants to fuck you." It's cruel, meant to hurt Tony just like he's hurting him.

Tony sighs. 

"Maybe he does. Who cares. He knows I can't. I can't do things like that anymore." Tony sounds disgusted at himself, sad, and a myriad of other emotions Bruce is sure he isn't suppose to feel. "He wants to hold my hand." Tony almost whispers. "He wants to date me, and ..."

"You'll come back to me. You always do."

Tony's soft curse, broken and sad, cuts through his heart when he hangs up, and he wants to message him, to say he's sorry, to beg maybe.

 

He tries to call again.

 

Tony doesn't answer.

 

Tony comes back with a tan, and a boyfriend. Steve holds his hand, and it hurt something deep into Bruce's ribcage, it hurts him to breathe when Tony carefully holds on to the fingers and doesn't let go.

 

At night, he sleeps on the other pillow. The one he didn't want to call Tony's pillow. 

He closes his eyes, and thinks about Yesterday.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading !
> 
> You can find it on tumblr :
> 
>  http://iwanttopizzamanyou.tumblr.com/post/147242547849/the-taste-of-mint
> 
> If you liked it, please consider leaving me a message and a kudos ? :) It mean a lot !
> 
> Please remember to stay hydrated during summer ! Drink a LOT of water, and don't let yourself die of hunger in front of the computer : go get a snack !


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